


Stage Lights Dancing in Your Dark Eyes

by Clytemnestrasrevenge



Category: VIXX
Genre: Actor/Director, Alternate Universe - Actors, Film Noir, Jaehwan just wants fame, M/M, Mutual Pining, Wonshik just wants to film his movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22078825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clytemnestrasrevenge/pseuds/Clytemnestrasrevenge
Summary: The set was darkened, his leading man standing front and center, a brooding expression on his face. The lines were pouring from him like rain and Wonshik sat in his directors chair, just watching. He was supposed to be watching the monitors, making sure the cameras were in the proper place and filming from the proper angle but he couldn't. Legs cross and his chin propped in one hand, Wonshik stared at his leading man, entirely transfixed.And then the lights came up, highlighting Jaehwan's face, from above and a little to the left. Wonshik was sure he'd never seen a more beautiful thing in his entire life~(AKA: that one where Wonshik is trying to make a movie and Jaehwan is his leading man.)
Relationships: Kim Wonshik | Ravi/Lee Jaehwan | Ken
Comments: 34
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by these pictures:
>
>> This~ [pic.twitter.com/YNjXZzcZLY](https://t.co/YNjXZzcZLY)
>> 
>> — ⚔️Nestra⚔️ (@nestras_rvng) [January 2, 2020](https://twitter.com/nestras_rvng/status/1212573852439470080?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw)

_ A mystery writer falls into a mystery of his own when he’s approached by Scotland Yard to aid in the infiltration of a local crime syndicate. _

“That... sounds  _ incredibly _ cliche,” Jaehwan said in a bored voice, laying the unopened script back atop the pile. There was a veritable mountain of them, all untouched, stacked haphazardly around the living room of his white apartment. Everything was white. White lampshades, white walls, white furniture, white floors. Pristine and orderly just the way Jaehwan liked it. 

“It’s from that new up and coming director though, you know, the young one,” his manager replied, picking the thick packet back up and plopping it on Jaehwans lap. 

His manager slash best friend, Hakyeon, was the person responsible for the manuscript invasion. A singularly determined individual, Hakyeon had decided that Jaehwan had gone too long without a proper project. Modeling gigs he picked up here and there weren’t good enough. Jaehwan needed  _ ‘A Film.’  _ Glistening eyes and jazz hands accompanied the word  _ ‘Film’,  _ like it was some sort of magic spell. 

“Which new up-and-comer, the hot one or the smart one?” Jaehwan asked, staring down at the script the shrewd eye of someone who’d seen this all before.

“The hot  _ and _ smart one.”

Jaehwan hummed, he knew the one. Vaguely. The manuscript was nice to look at. Pleasant to touch. Cream colored paper of a heavier weight than average, not the kind of high-acid pulp these packets were usually printed on. Raised typeface on the title page. Calibri not Times New Roman. A minute but poignant flare of personality. 

“It’s period noir drama, Hwan! That’s your niche! And it’s LGBT! You love the gays!”

“I  _ do _ love the gays, gotta represent my community,” Jaehwan replied, slightly fixated by the flow of round words across the page. He wasn’t even reading. Just absorbing the shapes of sentences and curves where a cursor had hovered...

“Mirror of the Moon... it’s just so... couldn’t they have come up with a less cringeworthy title?” 

“I know, it’s a bit blech, but I  _ also _ know who’s already been cast as the other male lead,” Hakyeon replied. He flipped the manuscript over and tapped a neon yellow post-it note with one perfectly manicured fingernail. 

Jaehwan blinked in the first moment of mild surprise he’d felt since he woke up that morning. “Is he really? The villain?” he asked, reading the words  _ ‘Lee Hongbin, second male lead, love interest/antagonist’  _ penned in blue felt tip. “Broadening his scope, apparently. You know I’m close with his manager, and it sounds like the darling of the dramas wants to show the world he’s more than a pretty face.”

“And about time. He’s enough of a bastard to pull off _bad guy.”_

“You love bastards.”

“I know, and I  _ do _ love him. Plus, and project with Bin would just be automatic good publicity,” Jaehwan sighed, thumbing through the script with a bit more interest. “You know he went to school with me, the year under mine.”

Hakyeon gave Jaehwan one of his patented  _ Looks. _ “I know.”

“What’s the audition?”

“Just a screen test. And a quick scene read with Hongbin if you’re up for it. Totally optional according to smart hottie.”

Jaehwan looked up at that, eyes sharp. “He wants me?”

His manager flashed a grin. “He does.  _ Very _ badly. From what I’ve heard, smart hottie would cast you without any audition at all.”

Jaehwan let his vision slide out, dimming to static fuzz. A hot new director, working with a close friend, free social bonus points. Even if the premise of the project sounded boring, taking the offer would be nothing but good for him. And the director  _ wanted _ him. Jaehwan  _ did _ enjoy being wanted. 

“Alright,” he breathed, slapping the packet down on the white couch cushion beside him and collapsing with faux exhaustion. “Set up a meeting, I’ll decide for sure after the screen test.”

~✰✰✰~

“Will you calm down, you look fine.”

“He’s outside,” Wonshik replied, pacing back and forth across his studio office. It was a small, cramped and cluttered. Scribbles and sketches littering the floor. A few of the better ones pinned on the walls. 

“He’s blonde.  _ Why _ is he blonde right now? I need him to be dark haired!”

“So tell him to dye his hair!” Sanghyuk said, sounding more fed up than he should. It was only nine in the morning. Wonshik didn’t bother telling his assistant off for impertinence. There would be no point. He’d most likely just get a smack for the effort.

“I probably need to introduce myself first,” Wonshik grumbled, looking himself over in the tiny shaving mirror he had propped up on his desk. He did look... well...

“Do I look like I’m trying too hard?” he asked, straightening up. Sanghyuk really did seem tired. Maybe he was tired of Wonshik. “No. You look like a professional, let’s go,” the younger man replied. Sanghyuk was in a suit as well, but black. Just a classic black suit, white shirt, navy tie. Why did Wonshik pick a maroon suit? Why today of all days? At least he’d worn a black shirt. 

He made to run a hand through his hair but aborted the movement half way. It would ruin the styling. The two left the office at a very measured pace. Wonshik did his best to maintain an even temperament. It wasn’t his first rodeo, so to speak. 

“I’ve heard he can be a bit of a diva, so try and be patient,” Sanghyuk muttered at Wonshiks side. 

“All the good ones are divas, can’t be helped.”

There he was. The perfect person. Not _generally_ perfect, Wonshik had never met Lee Jaehwan, had no clue what he was like as an actual human being. But the perfect person where looks we’re concerned. For the part, of course. If he only still had black hair...

“Mr. Lee?” Sanghyuk asked as they approached, holding his clipboard in the crook of his arm and sticking out a hand. Jaehwan shook it. “You  _ are _ hot!” he replied, giving Sanghyuk a cursory up and down. Wonshik had apparently gone temporarily mute. 

“I’m sorry?” Sanghyuk spluttered. He looked about as panicky as Wonshik felt. Jaehwan raised a brow. “You’re Kim Wonshik right? Everyone says you’re hot.”

Sanghyuk dropped Jaehwans hand like it had burned him and the man at Jaehwans side made an exasperated little cough noise. “No! No,  _ he’s _ Kim Wonshik! I’m his assistant, Han Sanghyuk!” 

“Are you sure?” Jaehwan asked, crossing his arms and turning to stare at Wonshik. God, if he wasn’t so perfect- “The title is shit, you’ve got to change it.”

“Excuse me?!” Wonshik replied, finally managing to open his mouth. 

“The title. It’s cliche and gross.”

Wonshik had to stop himself from making a stupid joke about Jaehwan being cliche and gross too. “I can’t change the title! It’s the title of James’ book in the story!”

Jaehwan snorted, a surprisingly delicate snort. “Honestly that just makes it worse,” he muttered. Fluffing up that horrible dye job with his spidery fingers. “You need to change that,” Wonshik said, gesturing at the top of Jaehwans head. “James Parker is a brunette.”

“Who?”

“The character I want you to play.”

“You really want it brown? It looks so nice like this,” Jaehwan preened, fluffing again. Wonshik squinted at him. “I want it black, actually.”

“Boring.”

Wonshik tried not to sigh with impatience. He failed. “Please make an appointment with his stylist, mister...” he said, turning to the man at Jaehwans side. “Cha Hakyeon.”

“Then please make an appointment with his stylist, Mr. Cha. Give Sanghyuk your contact information and he’ll send you a sketch of what I want.”

“I see my stylist every week,” Jaehwan interjected, taking a half step in front of his manager. Wonshik blinked. “Why?”

“Someone has to keep me pretty for the tabloid scandals.” Jaehwan gifted the director a fuck-you smile and turned, someone else calling his name from the entrance accompanied by the sound of footsteps. Wonshik stared after him. Perplexed. 

The person calling Jaehwans name was a newly blonde Lee Hongbin. Honey gold, just as Wonshik had instructed. “You magnificent bastard! That _hair!”_ Jaehwan squealed, slinging his arms around Hongbins neck and latching on. Hongbin scowled, but there was no real anger in his eyes. “Get off me, gorgeous bitch.”

Jaehwan cooed. “We get a sex scene, babydoll, better get used to it.”

“I’m sorry about him, it’s worth it once he’s on set, I promise,” Hakyeon said softly. 

“It’d better be.”

~✰✰✰~

Jaehwan picked at the sleeve of his white button-up, staring at his reflection in a little metallic rectangle. It was balanced on a stack of papers so thick that probably took at least three trees worth of pulp to print. He was in his new directors office. Alone. 

Wonshik had been called away for some sort of costuming emergency the day before, leaving before the screen test had even taken place. So Jaehwan had gotten his hair done instead. It was ink black, a single streak of sooty silver on his temple, styled up in a comma. It made his face look very white. Too harsh a contrast. 

The door opened behind him and Jaehwan made to get up, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. “Where's your manager?”

“Getting coffee, I didn’t know what you wanted so I told him to be creative,” Jaehwan replied, watching his new director shuffle around his piles of books and collapse in his desk chair. It was the only expensive looking thing in the room, high backed, dark wood and soft leather. 

“Thanks,” Wonshik replied with a dry chuckle. Jaehwan grinned, despite his best effort to keep a straight face. “Where’s your sexy assistant?”

“He’s wandering around somewhere, doing something important, I’m sure.”

“So, why did you ask to see me? Are we doing the screen test, or did you decide to go with someone else?”

The director steepled his hands. He seemed present, but Jaehwan thought there was a permanently distracted look in his eyes. Like his mind was somewhere else. Creative types were like that. “No, I want you as the lead.”

“Why?”

“You have the right- ears.”

Jaehwan coughed. “Pardon?”

“Ears. Pointy ears and pointy nose and your face is the right shape. Now that  _ this _ is fixed,” Wonshik replied, waving at Jaehwans head with one hand and shuffling papers around with the other, “You’re perfect.”

The director finally found what he was looking for and held it out for Jaehwan to see. A charcoal sketch, full body, a man in a trench coat with pointy ears, a pointy nose, black hair in a comma style. “Did you draw this?” Jaehwan asked, staring down at the paper in his hand. It was well done. 

“No, I described the picture in my mind to someone who can really draw,” Wonshik replied, staring at Jaehwan as intently as Jaehwan had just stared at the picture. He really was handsome. Nice cheekbones and soft brown eyes. Sharp jaw. And from what Jaehwan could tell, he had a nice body under that suit. 

“So you want me for my looks only? Not talent?” Jaehwan asked, sitting back in his uncomfortable chair. “I’m flattered, really, but I assure you that my talent is considerable.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its like 2am don’t @ me lol

“Oh my god I’m such an idiot!”

Jaehwan looked up from his script, finding his costar flopped back on his chair, _oozing_ dramatics. “What?”

“The last page! I’m not on the last page!” Hongbin groaned. He gave a very martyred sigh, even as Jaehwan grinned. “I am,” he replied, preening a little, “I’m on the last ten pages, actually. I think you’re dead by then. Why do you think I took the role?”

Hongbin sat up, shooting Jaehwan a glare of pure poison.

“Did I teach you nothing, bunny? Always check the last page.”

The door to the green room opened and their esteemed director entered, trailed by his sexy giant assistant. “Good morning, my lovely and handsome stars, ready to start the first shoot?”

Still feeling rather smug from his last-page victory, Jaehwan got to his feet, slinking over to the assistant and brushing his sleeve with quick fingers. “All set,” he replied, flashing his most winning smile.

Wonshik barely even looked at him. Nothing more than a darting glance in Jaehwan’s direction. He was in the zone.

“Stop hitting on the tall one, will you? I want that one,” Hongbin muttered, dragging Jaehwan away from Sanghyuk by the arm and towing him out to the set. Jaehwan grinned and poked him in the back. “They’re both tall, I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific.”

Hongbin smacked Jaehwan’s arm, a flock of stylists descending on them like anxious birds. Plucking at their hair and adjusting their costumes and dabbing at their makeup to ensure they were absolutely picture perfect. Jaehwan closed his eyes. Letting all of it fall away and focusing inward. Slipping into the mind of James Parker. 

For some unfathomable reason, Wonshik had decided that the _first_ shoot of the _entire_ movie would be the main love scene. Jaehwan had tried to tell him that it was a stupid idea, that doing the sex first without getting to know their characters better would basically set the tone for their fictional relationship dynamic and no-doubt ruin whatever his creative vision for the couple may be, but Wonshik had just smiled. This wasn’t going to be James and Daniel fucking, it was just going to be Lee Jaehwan and Lee Hongbin.

Doing his utmost to shake off his doubts, Jaehwan swept out onto the set proper. The waistcoat he had on wasn’t comfortable, per se, he hadn’t worn it in yet. But at least it was a pretty fabric, soft black wool that fit well and made his waist look stupidly small.

“Quiet on the set!”

Jaehwan took a deep breath in, exhaling on a count of five. They’d gone over blocking yesterday and he got into position. Leaning against the wall of his fake kitchen. One hand braced on the counter beside him, the other on his hip. Watching the lighting change and the crew dart around behind the cameras and Wonshik take a seat on his high director’s chair.

“Ready, Jaehwan?” Wonshik called, his deep voice soothing Jaehwan’s slight spike of nerves. Not wanting to speak again until he started reciting lines, Jaehwan simply nodded. Fixing his eyes on the floor.

“Hongbin?”

“I’m all set!” Hongbin called back from the other side of the wall, poised to walk through the fake back door and talk Jaehwan out of his clothes. This wasn’t Jaehwan’s first sex scene so he knew they’d have to re-record all the moaning and groaning in post, but experience had taught him that half-assing it on the first round wouldn’t make his life any easier.

_Just pretend like nobodies watching,_ Jaehwan repeated in his head, _this is your kitchen and your seemingly innocent doctor lover is coming for a visit. You’re starting to be suspicious of him. You’re going to confront him, and he’s going to calm you down. Nice and easy._

“Alright, I want a full run through first, then we can go back through and perfect the details. Try and make it as seamless as you can. If you forget a line, just improvise.”

_Improvise._ Fucking perfect. What the hell was the point of having a script if they were free to go off book?! Jaehwan swallowed his frustration. Wonshik was a good director, he was fresh and new and very clearly unorthodox, so Jaehwan would trust his decisions. For now.

The clapperboard clicked in front of the camera and everything went silent.

“Ready... action.”

Jaehwan hung his head, nibbling in his bottom lip for maybe three seconds until he heard Hongbin knock.

“Come in,” Jaehwan called, shooting what he hoped was a surreptitious glance at the fake door.

The first shoot was always the hardest. He had no character headspace to reference and- blocking and lines aside- he was basically flying blind. And making it romance was just adding another tier of difficulty for Jaehwan.

Okay, Jaehwan knew his character's bio inside and out. James Parker was smart, but in a creative way rather than the good-at-math way. He was sensitive. He was kind and caring and prone to rather explosive emotional outbursts. He had a strong sense of right and wrong, believed in the need for justice to be served, but privately, he was always more attracted to his villainous characters than the heroic ones.

At this point in the script, his character had already begun working with the authorities. It was maybe two-thirds of the way through, and he had just been shown the files of an unsolved murder that perfectly matched one of his unpublished manuscripts. A manuscript that had only ever been seen by himself and Daniel.

So, he was starting to put the pieces together. But James also held a deep and compelling love for Daniel. Wanted to see Daniel in only the best light. He would try and push the idea of Daniel being a killer out of his head, and refuse to acknowledge that the idea of it turned him on.

Jaehwan reasoned all of that out in roughly 0.7 seconds, pretending like he wasn’t watching Hongbin walk through the fake door.

He didn’t try to separate Hongbin from Daniel. Like always, Jaehwan let them melt together in his head, the combination so complete that when he finally did turn his head, looking at his costar standing in the open doorway, he felt James's heart flutter.

“Where have you been,” Jaehwan asked in a choked voice, letting his hand drop from the counter.

Hongbin shut the fake door and walked around the table, accidentally nudging one of the chairs with his hip. He wasn’t supposed to make extra movements, Daniel was meant to be suave and graceful and almost glide from place to place. A normal director would have called cut then and made him redo the entrance, but not Wonshik. The cameras continued to roll.

“I had business, sweetheart,” Hongbin replied, giving an easy smile as he rested his hands on Jaehwan’s hips.

“And what business would _that_ be exactly?” Jaehwan knew that James would have been softened up by the pet name and the smile, so he let his frustrated facade drop an inch.

“A patient, sweetheart, nothing for you to worry about. Nothing at all.” Another smile, this time showing those dimples that made all the teenage fans of Hongbin’s dramas go crazy. But using that cover story as an excuse, that Daniel was a doctor, would be taken as an insult now, Jaehwan thought. It would hurt James, knowing he was being lied too by someone he loved so much.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?”

Jaehwan had been expecting the playful tone, Hongbin had read it like that when they were working through the script, but he hadn’t anticipated how _irritating_ it would be in Jame's headspace.

“Because, I have been with the police all evening. Looking at grizzly photos of a crime that I _wrote._ I saw the evidence and read the witness statements; it was like someone had acted out my novel! A novel that I’ve only ever shown you, Daniel, so I ask again, _where_ were you!?” Jaehwan let his voice go shrill on the last few words, pleased at the expression of genuine surprise on his costar's face.

“My sweetheart,” Hongbin said, running one hand through Jaehwan’s carefully styled hair, “I’ve been making house calls all day. Those twin girls, the six-year old’s I told you about yesterday, with the chicken pox? They’re no longer contagious. Almost better actually, or better enough that they no longer need me on call.” A hand on Jaehwan’s collar, a gentle tug. “I don’t know what you _think_ I’ve done, sweetheart, but I _help_ people. It’s my job. I don’t hurt them.”

Jaehwan knew his character liked children and wanted to have children of his own, and so he knew that the mention of sick little girls should soften him up. He allowed his shoulders to relax. Not allowing the camera essentially dancing around in his peripheral to penetrate his consciousness. There was no camera, no set, no painfully attractive director watching his every move on a bank of monitors. It was just him and his secretly evil boyfriend about to bang on the sofa.

“Come now, sweetheart, you know I have no stomach for violence,” Hongbin urged, smiling for a beat too long. “You trust me, Don’t you?”

Great. Hongbin was going off script. Jaehwan fucking _hated_ improv. He was about to call a cut himself if Wonshik wouldn’t do it, but Hongbin squeezed his hip, nodding slowly, and Jaehwan couldn’t tell if he was urging Jaehwan to make up a reply or urging James to believe the cover story.

“I-“ was all Jaehwan could manage. Thoroughly flustered and at a loss for words. He just stood there with his mouth hanging open like a fish, wracking his brain for something to say when Hongbin kissed him.

They were supposed to have like five more lines of dialogue but apparently the script was out the window. He kissed his costar back, trying to pour as much of the desperate confusion he himself was feeling into his actions.

“Come on sweetheart, you love me, don’t you?”

More improv. Fantastic.

“Yes,” Jaehwan replied, one of the fucking cameras practically zeroing in on the side of his head. Because James _did_ love Daniel.

Hongbin grabbed Jaehwan by the lapels and swung him around, away from the wall, and guided him backwards into the adjoining living room. Unbuttoning Jaehwan’s waistcoat and shirt as they went. They were still following the blocking at least.

“Then trust me.”

Jaehwan decided to just nod. There was, truly, _nothing_ less sexy than a sex scene. Jaehwan hadn’t had the heart to tell Hongbin when his costar had asked about them. Oh, and this misdirected mess would be Hongbin’s first sex scene. What a tragedy.

Now that he was flattened against the length of the couch with the clothes being peeled from his body, Jaehwan spared a moment to think of all the ways he would murder Hakyeon for showing him the script of this stupid movie.

~✰✰✰~

Wonshik couldn’t take his eyes of the center monitor, it’s corresponding camera focused on the face of his leading man.

“Alright, Jaehwan, you know the drill. It’s going to cut at the climax. Give me one last good look,” he called, just loudly enough for Jaehwan to hear without getting started and ruining the shot.

This was their third and final time running through it, getting all the little niche details and critical angles that Wonshik needed to create the final picture.

Both of them had done spectacularly, Hongbin leading the free time just as Wonshik had expected him too. He was a bit younger, not a lot but enough to count, and less experienced. Wonshik had taken a gamble on Hongbin enjoying the challenge of improvisation.

Jaehwan had been in the game longer and so was more used to the rules. He’d gotten too comfortable in the routine of shooting to still be confidant when going off book. Wonshik had taken a gamble on that as well.

He’d seen Jaehwan’s expression when Hongbin started the _free time,_ as Wonshik liked to call it. He’d seen it and the cameras had seen it. That clear worry in the face of the unknown. Jaehwan hadn’t been _acting_ shocked, he had actually _been_ shocked, swiftly followed by confused, and finally resigned. It was absolutely perfect.

Stopping his mind from wandering, Wonshik let his eyes flick away from the monitor to where his leading men were currently dry humping on the sofa. One of Jaehwan’s legs was hooked around Hongbin’s waist, his upper body slipped halfway off the cushions, so his head lolled almost upside down. An arm trailing on the floor. Hongbin’s fingers in his mouth and the other hand on his waist. Wonshik looked back at the screen. Their jockstraps would need to be edited out in post- Wonshik wasn’t filming a porno and some decency needed to be preserved- but it would be no problem.

“Give me a count from five,” Wonshik murmured, eyes glued to Jaehwan’s face. The little hitch between his dark brows.

“5... 4... 3... 2...” Sanghyuk called, with the detached sort of boredom Wonshik had gotten used to by now.

Without any warning, Jaehwan looked _directly_ at the camera. Not even turning his head. Just raising his gaze so it felt he was staring at Wonshik through the monitor. Time slowed, Jaehwan’s brow smoothed over, and Wonshik could almost hear his leading man exhale around the fingers still in his mouth.

_“Cut!”_

It came out more like a croak than a word, but the monitor shut off, the cameras no longer rolling and the set bursting to life around him. Wonshik felt frozen. Staring at the black screen with his heart racing and a lump in his throat.

“Get off me!”

Wonshik shook himself out of his daze and looked toward the sound of the shout. Hongbin was taking a robe from one of the staff, handsome face showing surprise. Eyes wide. Jaehwan had already covered himself up, tying the belt of his robe hastily around his waist and practically running off set.

Up and out of his chair before he even realized he was moving, Wonshik followed his leading man through the groups of busy people and into the green room, Sanghyuk and Jaehwan’s manager close on his heels.

“Leave me alone!” Jaehwan snapped, whirling around when his manager tried to fuss over him. “I fucking quit! Leave me _alone!”_

From his left, Wonshik barely heard Sanghyuk mutter, “They weren’t lying when they called him a diva.”

“Alright,” Wonshik sighed, “All of you just- give us some privacy. Please.”

He had to step to the side as an assortment of stylists and makeup artists hurried past him out of the room. “That means you too, both of you,” he added, waving at Hakyeon and Sanghyuk who were hovering anxiously by the door. They left after a few heart beats, Hakyeon already apologizing for Jaehwan’s behavior on his way out.

“I’m _not_ doing that again,” Jaehwan shouted, once the door was firmly shut. “It was horrible! You made me look like a fucking _amateur_ and I’m not going to let you make a fool out of me again!”

“Jaehwan, calm down.”

“No! I won’t! You asked me to learn a fucking script and play a part and then just threw all of it away without telling me what the fuck was going on! Everything you filmed was just _me!_ It wasn’t James Parker it was Lee Jaehwan! What was the fucking point!?”

“I wanted you raw.”

“Ex-fucking-scuse me?!” Jaehwan essentially screeched, clutching the folds of his robe and hugging himself. Giving Wonshik a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

Wonshik slid his hands into his pockets. “I wanted your _actual_ emotions. You’re a great actor, I know that, but I wanted it to be genuine. _Needed_ it to be genuine. It’s the turning point of the film and it had to be perfect.”

“What?!”

“Think it through, Jaehwan- no stop doing that and listen to me,” Wonshik replied, raising his voice slightly and stepping forward to catch Jaehwan’s wrists. He’d started stuffing things in his bag, his phone, a travel sized mouthwash, bottle of facial mist, but Wonshik wasn’t going to let him have the dramatic storm-off he was aiming for. Not barefoot.

Jaehwan tried to smack him but Wonshik held him still easily enough, backing him up to the nearest counter and sitting him atop it. His leading man was apparently startled into silence at being picked up.

“See! _That_ face!” Wonshik exclaimed, grabbing a compact mirror and showing Jaehwan how he looked. “That’s what I wanted! I wanted you off balance and I wanted Hongbin to take charge.”

“Why did Bin have to be in charge?! Why couldn’t we have just said our lines? It would have ended up with the same result,” Jaehwan replied, crossing his arms like a petulant child. That pout was absolutely deadly.

“No. It wouldn’t have, and you’re still not thinking.”

“Then explain it to me, since I’m obviously too stupid to figure it out!”

Wonshik winced at the shrillness of the shrieking but he stopped Jaehwan from smacking at him a second time. “Daniel was manipulating James, right? You read the script, I know you understand that that's what was going on. Daniel was manipulating James and James didn’t want to believe it was happening, but the seed of doubt was planted in his head and Daniel didn’t explain it away well enough. Are you following?”

Jaehwan nodded, looking suspiciously at Wonshik out of the corner of his eye. Even now, glaring, that ink black hair in disarray, Wonshik couldn’t help but think that his leading man looked _perfect._

“I know you, or I know your style. And I know Hongbin’s. I knew he would get on bored with improvising before you would. And I knew you’d most likely get frustrated, but you stuck with it, because you’re a professional. So, what did we get?”

Jaehwan shrugged, now looking downright panicked at his lack of understanding. Wonshik plucked absently at the dyed silver streak in Jaehwan’s hair, trying to get it to lie flat.

“I set it up to feel like Hongbin was manipulating you. He was playing the game and you weren’t. But you didn’t give up, did you? No, you didn’t. You tried to play along with his improv and ended up just letting Hongbin control the situation. Resigned yourself to what was going on. But the whole time you kept thinking how unfair it was. Just like how James tried to believe Daniels lies but couldn’t shake his mistrust, and couldn’t stop thinking about how unfair it was that the man he loved was hiding something from him.”

“You-“ Jaehwan shook his head, “That wasn’t Hongbin manipulating me, you understand that right? That was _you_ manipulating us _both!”_

Wonshik shrugged. He couldn’t really argue that point. “Maybe. But I still got the emotions out of you that I wanted. You have a very expressive face. We got the shots, everything’s done, and we can move onto the next scene.”

His leading man was silent for a moment, swinging his legs back and-forth and nudging Wonshik with his knee. Wonshik was suddenly, _painfully_ aware that he was standing in between Jaehwan’s thighs, but he tried his best not to think about it.

“Are you going to do it again? Make us go off script?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Telling you would defeat the purpose.”

Jaehwan looked away from him then, fully turned his head so he was staring at the beige plaster wall. And that was when it finally made sense to Wonshik, why he’d thrown a tantrum only _after_ finishing the shoot rather than during. “Are you scared of doing badly?”

“Not scared,” Jaehwan snapped, still glaring at the wall, “I _detest_ doing badly. I don’t like feeling foolish, especially at something I know I’m good at. That experience was fucking mortifying.”

Wonshik turned Jaehwan’s face back to his. “If I’m not great at what I do, I’m average. And if I’m average, I’m nothing. I _have_ to do well.” The painful sincerity written on his features was actually starting to make Wonshik feel guilty for the trick he pulled.

“Are you going to quit if I say I’m going to make you improvise again at some point?” Wonshik asked, silently praying to whatever god was around that Jaehwan would say no.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

Jaehwan shifted a little, poking at a button on Wonshik’s shirt. “If I did well or not.”

He sounded so pouty that Wonshik could help but smile a little. “You did perfectly. I couldn’t have asked for any better,” he replied, tapping under Jaehwan’s chin. “The first run through was my favorite, but the thing you did at the end, looking right at the camera,” Wonshik kissed the tips of his fingers like satisfied chef, “Magnificent.”

Jaehwan grinned, finally, poking Wonshik again but more playfully this time. “And Hongbin did well too?”

“Yeah, he did great, but I wasn’t really focused on him. At least seventy percent of the shots are of you.”

“That was a mistake,” Jaehwan snorted, flopping back against the wall and letting his arms go limp like noodles at his sides. “People aren’t going to see this movie for me. They’re going to watch it for Bin. He’s the hot and popular one.”

“I’m not making it for _people,_ I’m making it for me. And I want to follow James’s story, not Daniels.”

“You’re not going to make any money with that mentality.”

Wonshik shrugged again. “It’s worked for me so far. Now, no more threatening to quit alright? If you have a problem with something, just talk to me. Don’t throw tantrums,” he said, trying to pull Jaehwan back up to a sitting position. His leading man went entirely limp, probably just to be irritating, his deadweight and general floppiness making the job of keeping him upright more difficult than it needed to be.

On the other side of the room, the door opened, Sanghyuk looking at his clipboard as he stepped inside. “Shik, we have a schedule. The Leading Lee’s need to get their makeup redone while we change sets, and the next scene is the police station so it’s going to take a while to-“

Sanghyuk had finally looked up and he snapped his mouth shut. Assessing the position he’d found the director and protagonist in. Wonshik felt himself flush slightly. He could see Hongbin and Hakyeon poking their heads in behind his assistant, a few of the hair stylists getting a peek as well.

“We were _just_ talking,” Jaehwan said, answering a question nobody asked. His tone was pure cocky confidence again and his arms had somehow ended up wrapped loosely around Wonshik’s neck. He flashed Wonshik a cheeky smile and it surprised a laugh from the director, tugging gently at Jaehwan’s earlobe.

“Great. You can _just talk_ some more later. We have a schedule to keep.”

Sanghyuk, as unmoved by the situation as he was by literally everything else, ushered the staff into the green room and dragged Wonshik out. One couldn’t ask for a harsher task master.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again lol  
> yes, it's 2:47 am  
> no, I haven't slept yet lolol
> 
> Hope you like the chapter, sorry it took so long~~

“You’re fucked.”

Wonshik snapped out his daydream, his assistant violently shaking a phone in his face. “What?”

“I said you’re _fucked!_ Look at this!” Sanghyuk exclaimed, giving the phone one final wave before dropping it on Wonshik’s desk. “You don’t have to read it; I can recite it from memory! Kim Wonshik, promising new director, rumored to be romantically entangled with leading man!”

Wonshik blinked at the phone's illuminated screen. Sure enough, there were the words, just as Sanghyuk had said.

“But,” he looked up at his assistant in sheer bafflement, “I thought Hongbin- I thought all the gossip was the Lee duo torrid romance!”

“Apparently, not anymore,” Sanghyuk huffed. “After your little _display_ in the green room last week I’m surprised it took this long.”

“What?” Wonshik felt like he was being an idiot. He most likely was.

“Someone leaked it! Probably one of the million stylists that saw you two!”

“Well, how does this make me fucked, exactly?”

Sanghyuk huffed in obvious aggravation. He looked about ready to chuck his coffee cup at Wonshik’s head. “Because, that’s going to be the story now. Not how sensational the film is, not the undeniable chemistry between your leading men, nothing that _matters._ It’s just going to be another director falling for their star!”

“I mean-“ Wonshik cleared his throat, shuffling around his papers for something to do, “-Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton met that way. So did Woody Allen and Mia farrow. They’re all doing fine.”

“Both those couples are now divorced, Wonshik. And Woody Allen married his fucking daughter. Is that what you want? To end up a weirdo social pariah married to your daughter?!”

“Oh please, Sanghyukah, for the love of all that’s holy, stop shouting at me. This isn’t as big an issue as you’re making it out to be,” Wonshik sighed, slumping forward and resting his forehead against the cool wood of his desktop. The chill helped soothe his overheated skin. “And for the record, Woody Allen’s wife was adopted.”

“You think that makes a difference?! It’s still terrible!”

“I agree, but bringing us back on topic, if you think I’m so fucked then what are we going to do about it?” Wonshik asked, letting his eyes fall shut. They had been on location for the past week shooting the majority of Hongbin’s solo scenes- the robbery, interrogation sequence, general mob activities- and Wonshik was so tired it felt like his eyelids were paperweights and his head was full of sand.

Sanghyuk collapsed in the smaller chair opposite. “I’ve already called your publicist. She’s going to get out in front of it and deny all rumors, you just have to stay focused on work until it goes away.”

“Fine.”

“You...”

Wonshik looked up to find his assistant staring at him with his head cocked to the side.

“You _don’t_ love him, do you?”

“Of course not,” Wonshik replied, patting the top of Sanghyuk’s hand. “He’s too needy. Needy isn’t my type.”

“What _is_ your type?”

It took a moment for Wonshik to answer, letting his gaze roam over his assistant’s face.

There had been a night, only one, in grad school. It was mostly a blur of alcohol and sweat for Wonshik, he’d been absolutely trashed, and he’d still been riding the _midterms-are-done_ high, and his giant nerd of a roommate had started to look better and better and better.

Sanghyuk was handsome, more handsome than he realized, and that fact had stopped him from developing one of those pretty boy personalities. Wonshik liked that about him. Especially in their industry, a humble person was hard to find. But even though they’d slept together at school, and even though Sanghyuk was practically perfect for him in every way, Wonshik couldn’t bring himself to take their relationship past the friend zone. He didn’t even know precisely why. What was he holding back for?

“I don’t know, but needy isn’t it,” Wonshik finally replied, once the silence between them had stretched on for too long. He was the one to look away first.

A very loaded pause.

“Well. Well, if you don’t want your movie to turn into a media circus, _please_ take my advice. The Leading Lee’s are getting enough attention without having you tossed into the mix,” Sanghyuk said, checking his phone as he got to his feet.

That was true, the film was already the center of industry gossip even though production was barely halfway finished. The subject matter, for the most part, was the aspect that had people talking. Society may be more open minded than it was ten years ago, but an openly gay actor staring in an openly gay R-rated film was still _News._ At least in this country.

Several of Wonshik’s mentors, older and more experienced directors that he’d worked for here and there, had strongly cautioned him against doing the film at all. They said it would trash his reputation and brand him forever as ‘that gay director who took a gamble on acceptance and lost’. But Wonshik disagreed.

He didn’t care if the general public were into it or not. What he _did_ care about were the young lgbtq kids, sitting alone in their bedrooms and wondering if they would be able to live happy and successful lives. Wonshik wanted to show them that it was more than possible, give them people to look up too. Show them that they weren’t alone.

Big budget LGBT movies were already being made, and more would be made at some point, that fact was just inevitable. But there weren’t enough yet. Wonshik didn’t feel like waiting around for time to catch up with him.

“Speak of the devil,” Sanghyuk grumbled, turning and walking out of Wonshik’s office without giving the director any explanation. But it turned out that no explanation was needed. His assistant returned a moment later, Jaehwan and Hakyeon in tow.

Wonshik blinked at his leading man like a deer in the headlights.

Even standing in this dimly lit trailer that was serving as Wonshik’s temporary mobile office, Jaehwan _shined._ He was perfect down to the smallest detail, the way he’d combed his hair, the minuscule tears on his cuticles where he’d bitten them. His button-up was so white it looked like he was shooting a commercial for bleach.

“How are you this fine day, handsome?” Jaehwan gave Sanghyuk a wink and the front of his shirt a little tug. This flirting routine was so- well, so _routine_ that Wonshik wasn’t even bothered by it anymore.

Sanghyuk actually _scoffed._ “You know I could sue you for sexual harassment.”

“That’s true, you could, and I’ll stop if you want me too. I won’t even look at you,” Jaehwan replied, spinning on his heels and staring forlornly at the wall with a hand on his forehead. A portrait of dismay and regret.

Sanghyuk scoffed again, folding his arms across his chest. “Anyway, what makes you think I’d be into you?”

It was Jaehwan’s turn to scoff and he dropped the pretense, shooting Sanghyuk a wicked smile over his shoulder. “Sweetie, _please,_ don’t insult my gay-dar like that.”

Sanghyuk narrowed his eyes.

“You aren’t gunna sue me, are you?”

“Probably not. It’d be bad for the film,” Sanghyuk sighed, rolling his eyes when Jaehwan gave him a giggly hug.

“On that point,” Wonshik broke in, holding the phone up for Hakyeon to see, “We may have a PR issue.”

Jaehwan swung around to look, abandoning Sanghyuk to come perch on the edge of the director’s desk. Legs crossed at the ankle so Wonshik could see black and green pinstripe socks peeking out from under his slacks. “What do you mean?”

“This,” Wonshik brandished the phone again even though the screen had gone dark, “Just stupid rumors. I guess one of the stylists must have leaked some exaggerated story about us.”

For some unfathomable reason, his leading man broke out in a grin. “Oh, that. No, I leaked that,” he replied, growing visibly happier at the incredulity on Wonshik’s face.

“You _what?!_ Why?!” Sanghyuk exclaimed, sounding just as taken aback as Wonshik felt.

Jaehwan stretched and then leaned back to sprawl across the desktop, not seeming at all bothered by the neatly organized papers he was squishing. “Allure, my darlings. Give the film a new publicity angle.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call a dating scandal _alluring.”_ Sanghyuk’s tone had taken on a note of irritation. He must have already gotten past the initial shock. Wonshik wasn’t quite there yet, and he continued to gape at Jaehwan like a landed fish.

“The rumors about Hongbin and I were good, but not good enough. People are already going to pay to see Bin, scores of them, his fans need no extra encouragement. But think about it,” Jaehwan’s head lolled sideways so he could blink at the director, “Now people are going to want to find out what it is about me that made you break your century-long celibacy streak.”

Wonshik frowned. “I’m not _celibate,_ I’m just really fucking busy.” He glanced over to where Hakyeon had planted himself by the door. “You agree with this little publicity stunt?”

“At first, no. Director slash lead relationships are a bit of a cliché and Jaehwan did it without telling me. But after some consideration, I think it was a smart move.”

Hakyeon wasn’t an idiot, even if Jaehwan was, and he wouldn’t have given in to his client’s whims if they could prove to be detrimental.

This was an area that Wonshik had _very_ little experience dealing with.

“Is that what you came to tell me, or actually, why are you here? You don’t have a shoot scheduled until tomorrow.” Wonshik kept his voice neutral, not letting on that he’d never been in a dating scandal before. Not showing how weird it made him feel. He tapped rhythmically on the tabletop with the tips of his blunt nails. Jaehwan was still looking at him and it made the skin under the collar of his shirt itch.

“I came to rescue you. We’re going to have dinner.”

Jaehwan was up and bouncing on the balls of his feet in an instant. He dropped a hand on Wonshik’s shoulder, patting a little, then poked the side of Wonshik’s head. “I appreciate it,” the director began, pointedly avoiding eye contact, “Really I do, but I have a ton of work to-“

“Excuse denied, come along.” Jaehwan nodded smartly and snagged Wonshik’s hand, tugging until the director gave up and stood.

Sanghyuk coughed. “We have an early morning, and it’s already late,” he intoned, the usual indifference he displayed around others conspicuously lacking. Wonshik glanced at him, then looked to Hakyeon for help, but no help came. All Wonshik got was a brittle smile as he allowed Jaehwan to drag him from the trailer.

The little quartet made their way through the shooting area, already half dismantled so it could be reassembled in the next spot. Wonshik nearly smacked his head on a piece of scaffolding. He’d managed to duck just in time, Jaehwan’s long fingers still laced with his. The leading man did as his title suggested and led them past set after set after set until they reached the gate.

On the opposite side of the gate waited something Wonshik hadn’t expected. Photographers. And not a small amount of them. He felt a self-conscious flush start to creep up his face.

“Where’d you park?” Jaehwan asked, paying the paps no attention and flashing Wonshik a lopsided grin. Wonshik tried to talk, failed, and then tried again. “What- just to the right, aren't you driving? How’d you get here?”

Jaehwan chuckled, a sound of pure mischief. “Yes, I’m driving, but we’re taking your car. And Yeonnie drove me here.”

“You are _not_ driving my car!” Wonshik squawked, only falling silent when Jaehwan gave his hand a squeeze that verged on painful. From behind, Sanghyuk spoke up. “Wait, you drove me! Am I supposed to take a cab?!”

And _there_ was a legitimate excuse Wonshik could use. He had to take his assistant home.

Wonshik could drive him back to Sanghyuk’s comfortable apartment, they could have their usual Chinese take out for dinner, and then he could finally give in and take his assistant to bed. Safe and familiar. There was something reassuringly domestic about that thought, that he could have a normal, everyday relationship with someone he genuinely considered a best friend. Sanghyuk would agree to it, Wonshik knew he would. He’d probably been waiting for Wonshik to make a move for years.

But then Jaehwan smiled at him and Wonshik, the pathetic sucker he was, knew he would do nothing of the sort.

“Hakyeon, can you take him? If it’s alright? If not, then Hyukah, take an Uber and I’ll pay your fare.”

Hakyeon shrugged and nodded, already walking away toward one of those stereotypical manager vans that was parallel parked at the curb.

Cameras flashed, something Wonshik had slowly been getting used to. _Paparazzi._ They didn’t care about Hakyeon, barely even noticed when he passed them, those reflective lenses focused as one like the many eyes of a spider. Were they looking at- no, not Wonshik. Well, _a few_ were aimed at Wonshik but almost all of them were on his leading man. Of course, they were. Jaehwan was a star for a reason.

“Go on, Hyukkie, Yeon won’t hesitate to leave without you. He can be an icy bitch that way,” Jaehwan chirped, tugging Wonshik toward the gate by the hand. Wonshik went. He didn’t even know why his brain was protesting so vehemently. But it didn’t really matter because his brain wasn’t pulling the weight right then, his body had taken over controls.

Sanghyuk threw Wonshik a look of what could only have been described as _betrayal,_ before turning and stalking towards the van. _That stung._

“Are you sure-“

“Yes,” Jaehwan interrupted.

Wonshik fully surrendered. His legs were a bit longer so when he picked up the pace, Wonshik was the one leading Jaehwan and not the other way around. Jaehwan’s palm still warm and dry against his own.

“Jaehwan, Jaehwan!”

Jaehwan didn’t turn to see who was calling him but Wonshik did. It was instinct. He wasn’t programmed to ignore people. But once he’d looked, he realized why Jaehwan hadn’t. The paps were getting braver, trailing after them and calling out questions.

“What’s it like working with a new director?”

“It’s been almost a year since your last movie, how does it feel to be back?”

“Jaehwan! What does Hongbin think about your new love interest?”

That last one _did_ catch Jaehwan’s attention and he glanced over his shoulder, holding out a hand for the keys to Wonshik’s Porsche. Wonshik passed them over without a fight.

“I’m sure he’s _utterly_ heartbroken,” Jaehwan replied, opening the driver’s side door and rolling down the window, “But he’ll get over it.”

Wonshik slid into the passenger seat of _his own car_ and buckled up. Just in time too, because as soon as the engine revved, his leading man stomped on the gas. Peeling out of the parking lot and down the gravel track to the street like he was on a rally course.

“Don’t speed in my fucking car!” Wonshik exclaimed, automatically getting a death-grip on the door handle, “And especially not when photographers are everywhere!”

“Oh relax,” Jaehwan chuckled, making a sharp left onto the smoothly paved road. At least that was better than the gravel. “I’m a very good driver.”

~✰✰✰~

“This... isn’t how I expected your place to look.”

Jaehwan dropped the keys on a marble sideboard with a clatter.

“You’ve thought about the interior of my home? How _intimate.”_

They’d ended up at Jaehwan’s apartment. A penthouse suite at the top of a glass and steel colossus in a rather hip district downtown. Everything was white. Literally everything. It felt sterile and un-lived in. Like a staged show home.

“So, this dinner invite... are you going to cook for me or what?” Wonshik asked, toeing off his shoes and leaving them by the door.

Jaehwan, the only word for it was _cackled._ “God no, I’m a horrid cook. I thought we could get chicken. Or pizza.”

That did sound kind of nice. Better than being out in public for more unscheduled photo ops. “Cool,” Wonshik replied. _Cool._ All his words felt sticky and slightly foreign, like he’d forgotten how to have a regular human conversation. “Can I plug in my phone?”

“Of course. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. Charger is on the nightstand.”

Jaehwan seemed to have half-forgotten Wonshik was there, puttering around his living room and straightening cushions. Wonshik watched him for a moment more.

The _cocky movie star_ act had dropped only five minutes or so into the drive. Jaehwan was surprisingly goofy, knew a surprising amount of rap lyrics for a person with a publicly stated preference for ballads, and had a surprising amount of road rage. He’d alternated between singing along to Wonshik’s Spotify selections and cursing at passing drivers for going too slow. Certainly, a different vibe from the attention seeking diva he portrayed to the public.

Wonshik shook himself, tearing his eyes away from his leading man and moving up the stairs. Down the hall. Third door on the right. Leaving his phone would feel like losing a limb but letting its battery die would have the same result.

The room Jaehwan directed him to turned out to be a bedroom. The master bedroom by the look of it. White was definitely a recurring theme for the decor, white marble floors scattered with white faux-fur area rugs, the white down comforter on the bed so fluffy it looked like a king-sized cloud. Wonshik scanned the room for a phone charger. There it was, plugged into a funky silver lamp on the nightstand.

Wonshik didn’t allow himself time to snoop, fearing Jaehwan’s reaction if he were caught and how creepy it would look. He paced back down the hall and down the stairs. Hands in his pockets. Breathing slowly through his nose.

“Did you find it?” Jaehwan asked, looking up from the tablet balanced on his knees. He was _conspicuously_ beautiful. Perched on his white sofa in his white shirt, white teeth gleaming when he smiled.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Good. Here, pick something to eat, I wanna change into something comfy.” Jaehwan was on his feet again, striding over and passing the tablet to Wonshik before bounding away up the stairs.

Wonshik watched until he disappeared and then sighed quietly. The tablet screen was open to a selection of menus. Pizza. Chicken. Pizza and chicken. Chicken on pizza. At least Jaehwan was a man of his word. Wonshik took a seat in the spot Jaehwan just vacated and looked around. One entire wall was windows, panes of glass at least fifteen feet high. And there were scripts _everywhere._ Piles of them, strewn about like the aftermath of a hurricane that had swept through a publisher's office.

Only one script was actually on the table though, and Wonshik wouldn’t help but notice the title. _Mirror of the moon._ Their film. That made Wonshik smile.

“What are you grinning about?” Jaehwan chirped, slipping back down the stairs in a much more casual outfit than anything Wonshik had ever seen him in. His leading man was always polished, always dressed up, always presentable. So, seeing Jaehwan in an oversized sweatshirt and cotton shorts was strange to say the least.

Not that he wasn’t still dazzling, he _absolutely_ was. But it came off as cute rather than intimidating.

“You have our script out,” Wonshik replied, Jaehwan’s brow furrowing in confusion.

“Yes, _obviously_ I have our script out, mister director, Sir, we’re in the middle of production. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, but it certainly looks like you have a lot of other offers on the table. Or- not _physical_ on the table, they’re all over the floor, but you know what I mean.”

Jaehwan clicked his tongue, sitting himself on the edge of the coffee table opposite Wonshik. His socked feet nearly touching Wonshik’s. “Well, I’ll admit I was persuaded to take your offer, Director Kim. It wasn’t my first choice. Hakyeon was pretty keen on us working together.”

“Would you have declined if not for your managers persuasions?” Wonshik asked, leaning forwards with his hands clasped, elbows propped on his knees. Jaehwan leaned forwards to match him. “Maybe.”

“What convinced you to accept, then?”

Jaehwan hummed, tilting his head a little to the side. _“You_ mostly. You’re new, but your reputation is upstanding so far. You have a good creative direction and a unique appreciation for aesthetics, _and_ also, I heard you were good looking. Casting Binnie didn’t hurt either, but he was just bonus points.”

“It’s good to hear that I have a nice reputation,” Wonshik replied, trying his hardest not to blush at the comment about his appearance. Jaehwan grinned, a wide lopsided grin that was downright precious, and bumped the tip of his nose against Wonshik’s like an Eskimo kiss. “Let’s order food and then we can pick a movie.”

And so, they picked, some kind of fried chicken pizza that Wonshik had never heard of, and then Jaehwan gave him the tour while they waited.

Wonshik would give his leading man this, his house _was_ pretty fucking cool. He had a fully kitted out game room, a mini cinema upstairs, as well as an entire room dedicated to displaying his superhero action figures. That last leaned more towards nerdy than cool, but Wonshik could appreciate the wish to collect.

“I know I’m repeating myself, but this _really_ wasn’t what I expected your place to be like,” he said, trailing Jaehwan back downstairs.

Jaehwan flashed that cute grin over his shoulder. “What were you expecting then? Silk dressing gowns and feather boas? A dry martini before an invitation to visit my boudoir?”

“I mean-“ Wonshik cleared his throat, “I mean yeah. That’s pretty much _exactly_ what I was expecting.”

“Sorry to disappoint, then. Grab plates, would you?” Jaehwan’s words were accompanied by the buzzer on his intercom ringing and he scampered away without a backward glance.

Wonshik did as instructed, although it took him three tries to find which cabinet in the wide kitchen _actually_ housed the plates. All Jaehwan’s dishes were white. Even his mugs. Not a funny mug in sight.

With an excited squeak, Jaehwan tumbled into the kitchen. “Beer or wine? I have both. Or I guess vodka? Or soju? I have lots of choices.”

Wonshik smiled, watching his leading man unpack their dinner. “Up to you,” he replied.

“Soju then! C’mon, we can eat on the couch.”

“How do you not constantly get stains? And actually, why is everything white?” the director asked, accepting the chilled bottle Jaehwan held out and picking up his plate.

Jaehwan laughed softly under his breath. “It makes me feel like I’m living in heaven.”

~✰✰✰~

_Dr. Stephen Strange: Woh, wait a minute. You’re not… You guys aren’t…_

_Christine Palmer: What?_

_Dr. Stephen Strange: Sleeping together? Sorry, I thought that was implicit in my disgust._

_Christine Palmer: Explicit, actually. No, I have a very strict rule against dating colleagues._

_Dr. Stephen Strange: Oh, really?_

Wonshik did his best not to fidget or move, eyes glued to the screen. Their food had been devoured, Jaehwan had run off to brush his teeth and come back, Wonshik’s suit jacket had been abandoned on an armchair, and the soju was running out.

They were both breathing very carefully, their shoulders and upper arms touched. Wonshik was much too aware of the thickness of his own shirt. Or _thinness,_ as it were. Aside from Jaehwan’s sweatshirt, it was the only thing keeping him and his leading man from brushing skin to skin.

“You do realize that I direct films for a living, yes?” Wonshik intoned, still not looking when Jaehwan glanced away from the screen.

“And?”

_“And,_ so I could have recommended something better than a superhero movie,” Wonshik replied.

Jaehwan let out a delicate snort, settling into the cushion at his back. His arm was still touching Wonshik though. One hand now fiddling with the cuff of Wonshik’s button-down. “Yeah, and I act in _films_ for a living, just let your hair down and let the marvel cinematic universe cradle you in its gentle embrace.”

“I don’t know if I’d call-” Wonshik waved a hand at the preposterously large TV screen on which Doctor Strange was in the midst of a horrible car accident _“-this_ gentle.”

“Do you want to watch something else?” Jaehwan asked. Like an idiot, Wonshik turned his head so he could look his leading man in the eye. Forcing an elaborate casualness. Jaehwan’s big puppy brown eyes seemed very round, his full lips seemed fuller, that pointy nose just the tiniest bit pointier. Perfection.

Wonshik looked away. Staring at Jaehwan for too long was dangerous. “No, this is fine. A bit of mindless entertainment here and there never goes amiss.” He attempted to focus on the movie and failed entirely.

Five more minutes past, or that’s what Wonshik guesstimated, five more minutes of him still paying more attention to the bit of Jaehwan’s arm he was touching than to the bajillion dollar budget action movie playing in front of them. Maybe it was the soju that loosened his tongue, or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just the fact that the director was still slightly confused as to why he was there.

“Why are you touching me?”

Jaehwan flinched slightly and scooted away, the absence of warmth against Wonshik’s upper arm more conspicuous than its presence. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine- I was just wondering why. I mean this couch isn’t small, you have room to spread out.”

“So do you.”

_Fair point._ Wonshik shrugged. “It’s not my couch, it’s yours.”

“Well, I give you permission to spread out then. And I was just a bit chilly is all. You’re warm.”

The director lifted his arm, motioning for his leading man to come back. And Jaehwan did. He scooted right back over and situated himself against Wonshik’s side.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

Wonshik allowed himself to relax a little. Jaehwan was cozy, cuddled up to him like that. His long and lanky body curled against Wonshik’s torso. And his leading man did feel a bit cold.

“We can turn this off though, if you need to go...”

“No, no I have nowhere to go. No other plans. Unless, you want me to go?” Wonshik asked, turning his head so he could try and gauge the reaction he was getting. Jaehwan’s expression was blank. His eyes as assessing as Wonshik assumed his own to look. His bow shaped lips were parted, soft and inviting, smooth skin reflecting the blue light pouring off the TV. _So perfect._

“I was hoping you’d stay,” Jaehwan replied, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Wonshik glanced down at his leading man’s mouth for half a second and then back to his eyes. This was a bad idea. He was having several _very_ bad ideas at once. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

He forgot to look away this time, forgot to return his attention to the movie like he should have. Jaehwan blinked slowly. Once. He wasn’t watching the movie either.

“You’re really beautiful,” Wonshik murmured, nearly choking on his tongue when he realized he’d spoken out loud. That was most definitely an unhelpful thing to say.

A smile broke across Jaehwan’s face and he sat up a little. His free hand found Wonshik’s cheek. “So are you.”

And just like that, Wonshik’s mouth was pressed against Jaehwan’s, his eyes falling closed as he tasted the hint of minty toothpaste residue on his leading man’s bottom lip. Pillow-soft and wonderfully supple. _Oh, bad idea, bad idea, bad idea._ Wonshik could get used to that and get used to it really fucking easily.

“Sorry,” Wonshik breathed, forcing himself to pull away and take stock of the situation. Or, he _tried_ to pull away. Jaehwan chased him, that adorable pointy nose bumping against his cheek.

“Why are you sorry?”

Wonshik could feel Jaehwan’s hot breath fanning across his mouth. “Because I didn’t ask-”

“I kissed you, so _I_ should be the one apologizing,” Jaehwan hummed, one hand now on Wonshik’s thigh for balance. The director’s eyes were still shut tight, but he accidentally laughed a little. “Oh, right. Well don’t be sorry.”

Jaehwan’s fingertips brushed rhythmically along his cheekbone, pressing light kisses to the corner of his mouth. Fine. This may be a bad idea, but it was nice, nice to feel close to another human being for once. Not to mention a human being that Wonshik liked and admired. His leading man was soft and pliable in his arms and an easy heat warmed the pit Wonshik’s stomach. Desire probably. Wonshik couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually _wanted_ someone.

Wonshik scooped Jaehwan onto his lap for a brief moment before draping him across the length of the couch, Jaehwan's head pillowed on the armrest, one of Wonshik’s hands beside his head. His caress smoldered into the director, cupping the nape of Wonshik’s neck. Humming contentedly as Wonshik dropped a kiss on the side of his neck.

Jaehwan lifted his chin, silently asking for more, and Wonshik obliged. He tugged the neckline of Jaehwan’s sweatshirt down and sucked gently at his skin.

Blindly groping fingertips began unbuttoning Wonshik’s shirt, Wonshik clutched Jaehwan’s waist, delicious warmth searing into him when Jaehwan’s hands found his bare chest.

A very good bad idea.

~✰✰✰~

Wonshik woke absurdly early the next morning, light from the floor-to-ceiling windows stabbing through his eyelids as soon as the sun began to rise.

He was still horizontal on Jaehwan’s couch, his leading man dead to the world. Tucked between him and the backrest in nothing but the sweatshirt he’d changed into the night before. Wonshik smiled sleepily at the sight of Jaehwan’s slightly swollen lips and puffy eyelids. He was cute when he slept.

But if the sun was rising, that meant Wonshik had to go home and shower and change so he could make it to location on time. He was supposed to have a meeting with Hongbin before they even started filming, and Sanghyuk would want to do his normal run-through of the day’s schedule, and there was food to think about. And coffee.

Jaehwan wasn’t supposed to shoot until noon so Wonshik decided not to disturb him.

He got up as smoothly as he could, collected yesterday's clothes, and then jogged upstairs to retrieve his phone from where he’d left it charging by the bed. There were about a thousand missed texts from Sanghyuk but Wonshik could worry about those later. Coffee first.

Wonshik found a small notepad in the kitchen and he tore a page off, scribbling a hasty _‘I'll see you later’_ on it and leaving it on the coffee table beside his leading man’s phone. With one last look at the still sleeping Jaehwan, Wonshik left the penthouse.

The elevator ride down to the garage was long but Wonshik didn’t mind. It gave him an extra moment to straighten his sleep-mussed hair in the mirrored wall. He didn’t look terrible, just messy. Exactly like someone who’d had an impromptu sleepover and was now doing to walk of shame back home. Could be worse.

~✰✰✰~

“What did I tell you yesterday?!”

“Seriously, Hyukah, let me drink my coffee before you start shouting,” Wonshik sighed, resting his head on one arm and closing his eyes.

He’d managed to make himself presentable and get to location in just over an hour, but he was still tired. Thoughts of cuddling up on Jaehwan’s white couch for a nap permeated his thoughts. How cozy would that be...

“Honestly, I knew you’re an idiot, but I didn’t realize you were enough of an idiot to let yourself get wrapped up in a diva’s publicity stunts!”

Hadn’t they discussed this yesterday?

“Didn’t we discuss this yesterday?” Wonshik asked, overwhelmed by a sense of Deja vu.

Sanghyuk huffed and dropped something on the desk right beside Wonshik’s head. “Yeah, we did. I’m glad you remember. But now, it’s about ten times worse.”

With a groan, the director pushed himself back up to a sitting position. The thing that had been dropped by his head was a phone. Sanghyuk’s phone to be specific. And it was open to a new article. _‘Up and Coming Director Kim Wonshik (27), Seen Leaving the Home of Lee Jaehwan (28) Who is Playing the Lead in New Film, Mirror of the Moon’._

“They took your picture. Lots of pictures.”

Wonshik’s heart dropped into his stomach. Was that actually all last night had been? Just an opportunity to add more fuel to the rumor Jaehwan had started? How could Wonshik have fallen for such a stupid trick.

He glared at the screen and then glared at Sanghyuk (who glared right back), and then pulled his own phone from his jacket pocket. Wow. He didn’t even have Jaehwan’s private number. His assistant would have it. Wonshik snatched up Sanghyuk’s phone and navigated to his contacts, scrolling until he found one labeled _‘Lee Diva, The Elder’._ Taking a bet that was the number he was looking for, Wonshik typed it into his messaging app and sent a text. Letting his hurt do the talking for him.

_‘If you wanted another staged photo op, you should have just asked. No need to go to the trouble of an actual hookup.’_

Wonshik forgot to say who he was. That shouldn’t really matter though. Unless Jaehwan had slept with someone else in the time it took Wonshik to drive home, change, and then drive here, the identity of the sender should be obvious.

“Well what do you want me to do about it now? They already took my picture,” Wonshik said evenly, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

Sanghyuk made a grumbly noise. “I want you to think for a change. Please. And start listening to me when I tell you important stuff.”

“I do listen to you-”

_“Clearly_ not well enough.”

The sound of shuffling papers made Wonshik open his eyes, but Sanghyuk was just flipping pages on his clipboard. “Hongbin and Taekwoon are here, are you ready for the meeting or do you want me to stall?”

“Who’s Taekwoon?”

“Oh my god, that's Hongbin’s manager! You really don’t _ever_ listen, do you?!”

“I listen, my brain just isn’t at full capacity yet,” Wonshik sighed, making a valiant effort not to look injured by this whole stupid situation. This was why he didn’t date. Too fucking complicated. Too much that could go wrong. “Let’s get it over with.”

As he was following Sanghyuk out of his temporary office trailer, Wonshik’s phone buzzed. Jaehwan had replied. Fantastic.

_‘You’re the one who ran out on me. And to think, I wanted to spend my valuable time making you breakfast.’_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/ description of a panic attack

“What made you want to be an actor, Jaehwan?”

Jaehwan looked up from the script in his hand, taking a moment to process the question that had jostled him out of his James Parker headspace.

He and Sanghyuk were alone in the green room, an oddity in of itself. Wonshik had asked for half an hour with Hongbin to go over something in private, Hakyeon was out getting coffee with Hongbin’s manager (who shall forever remain nameless in Jaehwan’s mind, never to be thought of or spoken about), and so the assistant director had been set the task of babysitting him.

“You? Actually, wanting to _talk_ to me? Are you feeling well?”

Sanghyuk shrugged. _“Want_ is a strong word, but conversing is the polite thing to do when people are stuck alone together for prolonged periods of time.”

“Well,” Jaehwan gave an affected little flutter of his hand, “Please don’t strain yourself on my account.”

“Forget it,” Sanghyuk replied, waving Jaehwan away and returning his attention to his phone screen. Like he hadn’t just broken Jaehwan’s concentration. Like _Jaehwan_ had been the one to interrupt _him_ while he worked instead of the other way around.

“No, I’ll answer.” Jaehwan closed his script and set it on the ground, tucking his legs up under him where he sat on one end of the uncomfortable leather sofa. “You asked what made me want to be an actor?”

A pause. Then a sigh, Sanghyuk lowering his phone and balancing it on one knee.

“Sure.”

_God,_ but this giant man boy could be so insufferable sometimes.

“Well,” Jaehwan propped his chin in his hand, then propped his elbow on the backrest, giving the assistant director his most glittering smile. Sanghyuk didn't even look at him.

“I must have been seven or eight, nine at most, and my family went to see this little variety show that was put on every week in my grandparents’ hometown. We were there for a visit, you understand, and I guess they just needed something to keep my brothers and I occupied or something so we wouldn’t burn down the house on accident.”

“But, so they took us to see this show, and there was a comedian first, who, as an eight-year-old, I thought was the funniest person I’d _ever_ seen. Like I actually fell off my seat I was laughing so hard.”

Sanghyuk snorted and Jaehwan continued his story, always so encouraged by even the smallest reactions of his audience.

“And after him there were these dancing girls. Like, real, feathered headdresses, gem encrusted bodices, fishnet stockings, _dancing girls._ All in pink and coral and blue, I remember being completely enthralled. My eldest brother had chosen to cover my eyes by that point but even so... sitting in the dark, listening to the music, taking in lungful’s of that theater smell- theaters have a very specific smell, no idea why- but...” Jaehwan tapped his lip, allowing himself to get lost in the memory.

“Sitting there, experiencing it, and knowing I was surrounded by other people experiencing the same thing... it felt _magical._ The whole car ride home I just basked in it. It felt like I’d been transformed, like someone had opened up a secret door to a magical world I hadn’t even known existed until that day.”

Sanghyuk still wasn’t looking, but Jaehwan noticed the little anxious bouncing of his feet had stopped.

“And then a while after that, when I was thirteen, I successfully bullied my mom into taking me to see Hamlet. It was an amateur production, but I couldn’t tell the difference at that age. And I didn’t care. It was just- an absolutely _transcendent_ experience. I couldn’t even really understand Shakespeare yet, but I still got the feeling of the words, the emotions behind them. That was it for me, honestly. I knew there was nothing else that would make me happier than being on the stage. I did all the school productions in high school and was asked to join the national drama company after graduation.”

“So, that was it? You saw one show as a kid and then just... boom. Actor?”

Jaehwan shook his head a little, trying to think of how to articulate his thoughts in a way that would make sense.

“No. I mean, _yes,_ I knew I wanted to be an actor then, but I didn’t fully commit until a few years after high school. Because I’m a coward and had absolutely _no_ self-confidence. I thought that if I gave up on school and went acting full time, and something went wrong, I’d have nothing to fall back on and I’d basically fuck up my future. But then... it was like- there was a moment.”

“I was on stage, we were doing Richard the Second, and by some miracle I was given the roll of the bratty king himself-“

“A bratty tyrant... I wonder why they cast you... such a mystery...”

Jaehwan shot Sanghyuk his most poisonous glare. “The commentary is not appreciated; do you want me to finish or not?”

It seemed that annoying Jaehwan was the only thing that brought the assistant director any happiness, because he finally cracked a smile. “Get on with it then.”

“As I was saying,” Jaehwan cleared his throat, “I was performing Richard the Second, and it was nearly the end. Right before Richard is killed by Henry, you know, when they’re in the throne room and Richard is being all whiny and dramatic and godking-esque? Have you seen it?”

Sanghyuk gave a curt nod.

“Okay good. So, it was during that scene, and I felt this- this overwhelming sense of rightness. I was suddenly so in _control_ of it. Of the role, of myself, and it was the best kind of control because it made me free. Like everything had fallen into place at that moment. I knew I had the ability to do everything correctly, and I’d been working so hard for so long to cultivate those skills and suddenly it had sunk in that _‘yes, I can do this. So now I can have fun.’_ That’s when I _really_ knew I wanted to be an actor.”

The assistant director had finally shifted around to look at Jaehwan, those dark eyes piercing in a way they usually weren’t. Jaehwan understood the look at once.

“Did you ever want to be an actor, Hyukkie?”

“Didn't everyone?”

Jaehwan hummed under his breath, switching to a cross legged position so his back was against the armrest. “Not really, not the way we did. Lots of people want to be rich and famous, so naturally go _‘oh yes I think being an actor will get me that.’_ But does everyone understand and appreciate and adore the art of acting? No.”

A knock came at the door, some stage manager or another calling for Jaehwan to be ready for his scene in five minutes.

Jaehwan let out a breath, closing his eyes to steady himself for a moment before pushing up off the uncomfortable sofa. “Our esteemed director must be finished torturing Bin.”

“Just, one second,” Sanghyuk said, sitting up straighter as Jaehwan began to move about the room.

“Hm?” Jaehwan plucked at an out of place hair, looking himself over.

The assistant director watched Jaehwan, his expression caught somewhere between sure and conflicted. “You- need to watch your behavior.”

“Excuse me?!” Jaehwan choked out, whirling around to stare at Sanghyuk in disbelief. He’d been anticipating another acting question, not a chastisement.

“You need to watch your behavior. Specifically, towards Wonshik. He wanted you for this role, only you, I’m still not sure why because I’ve seen better. And he’s a very good person. If you continue to walk all over him, he’s going to let you, because this movie matters so much that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here. But he doesn’t deserve to be treated like how you’ve been treating him.”

“What the _fuck?!_ What are you talking about?! I’m not walking all over anyone-“

Sanghyuk had gotten to his feet at some point, hands in pockets and face grimly calm. It was rare, but every now and then Jaehwan _hated_ taller men. Hated how they could look down at him like he was just a little kid, intimidating and frightening. This was one of those moments. Sanghyuk stood a shade too close, (Jaehwan disliked the cliché of the phrase but Sanghyuk really was) towering over him and getting in his space.

“These little publicity stunts? Tantrums on set? It needs to stop.”

“Are you _really_ this jealous?!” Jaehwan snapped, hating himself for taking a half-step backward. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you dote on Wonshik. Your heart eyes are so obvious it’s honestly astounding he hasn’t picked up on your crush yet.”

Jaehwan knew he sounded nasty, but Sanghyuk had been nasty first. And Jaehwan didn't take kindly to being talked down to by his juniors in this way. Especially when they didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about.

“This isn’t about me; this is about the movie. You’re exhausting and you’re a burden to everyone on this set.”

That last part stung more than it should have but Jaehwan didn't let the hurt show.

“Don’t lie to yourself, Sanghyuk. You can lie to everyone else but don’t lie to yourself.”

“You _hurt_ him!” Sanghyuk exclaimed, suddenly losing his composure, stepping forward as Jaehwan took another step back. “You should have seen his face when the newest article dropped. When he found out how manipulative you are. When he found out that you used him for attention. It hurt his feelings badly and I won’t allow you to hurt him again!”

“Did it ever occur to you that it hurt _my_ feelings too?!”

That brought Sanghyuk up short, because of course it hadn’t. He wouldn’t have stopped to consider how Jaehwan felt on the matter at all. Why would he? Jaehwan was just an attention hungry diva to him. Just another cookie cutter celebrity who’d do anything to get his name in the headlines.

“Us leaving here together? That was a publicity stunt. A very obvious one. But my apartment building has very, _very_ good security. Nobody should have been able to see him either coming or going. When I saw that article, my first thought was that someone followed us and snuck in, and how fast I was planning to sue them as soon as I figured out who took those pictures.”

Jaehwan swallowed hard, wrapping his arms around his middle for a small measure of comfort.

“He’s the one that ran out on me! He didn’t even wake me up to say goodbye or text me to say good morning or call to see how I was doing. Just left a stupid note saying he’d see me at work or something! What happened between us was private, I never meant for it to get out, and the way it was handled hurt me as much as it hurt him, not that I know how he feels about _anything_ because he hasn’t spoken to me yet.”

Jaehwan grit his teeth in an attempt to make himself shut up and stop rambling to this man who didn't care about the words that were spewing out of his mouth.

The fact was, Jaehwan _was_ hurt. Contrary to popular belief, and contrary to his fairly liberal utilization of the tabloid media, Jaehwan didn't hook up with people very often. He also hadn’t actually planned on hooking up with Wonshik at all. All Jaehwan had been aiming for was a few shots of them leaving the set together and then have a quiet night in. Spend some time getting to know Wonshik better as a person rather than a professional.

The fact that they had chemistry wasn’t Jaehwan’s fault. The fact that it was so easy to be himself around Wonshik wasn’t Jaehwan’s fault. And most importantly, the fact that Wonshik had made the choice to come home with him instead of Sanghyuk wasn’t Jaehwan’s fault.

“If you want to tell me off, please just skip the pleasant conversation next time, Mr. Han. And do not bring up my personal life again.”

With that, Jaehwan grabbed the pocketwatch he’d left on his dressing table (the prop people would kill him if they knew he had it off set, and would probably kill him twice if he lost it) and stomped out of the green room without a backward glance. No point giving Sanghyuk an opportunity to yell at him some more.

“There you are, Hwan! We just got back, the director said you were with his assistant?”

Like a breath of cool air on a hot summer day, Hakyeon breezed up to where Jaehwan had stopped. His dramatic exit cut short after the exit itself, since he had no earthly idea where it was he was supposed to be going.

“Yes! I was! And your job from now on is to never ever leave me alone with that disrespectful brat ever again!”

Jaehwan flung himself upon his manager, needing the comfort of a familiar person after that little confrontation. He was so focused on latching to Hakyeon that Jaehwan missed who was standing beside him.

“Good afternoon, Jaehwan-ah.”

_Not now. Not today._ Fuck, Jaehwan adored Hongbin but why couldn’t he have picked a different manager?! Jaehwan mentally kicked himself (for the nine-thousand, seven-hundred, and fifty-second time) for introducing them.

“There really is no escape from misery today,” Jaehwan moaned, not really addressing anyone in particular, especially not the person who’d spoken, and peeled himself off his manager with a sigh. “I have a scene, I think, but I don’t know where.”

Hakyeon, understanding at least half of the Issue without it needing to be vocalized, pulled his phone from his pocket and lead Jaehwan away from _him._

“You’re just doing some of the early romance this afternoon, so make sure to put on your most delightful persona please.”

Perhaps the gods hadn’t forsaken him entirely after all. Soft romance was just what Jaehwan needed to repair his ill humors. “Good, that’s absolutely wonderful news honestly, I don’t know if I’m in the headspace to do much else at the moment.”

The two were quiet for a moment, walking side by side through the sprawling set yard and winding through the rambling staff.

“You’ll need to talk to him eventually, Hwan. Ignoring him the way you are comes off as... well, let’s call it unprofessional.”

Great. _Another_ chastisement. First Jaehwan was too familiar, and now he wasn’t familiar enough. Couldn’t even handle a nasty breakup satisfactorily.

“I will not need to talk to him _ever_ again. But thanks for your input.”

“Mr. Lee, you’re wanted on set B6!” An assistant who Jaehwan didn't know came barreling up to them, out of breath.

Hakyeon glanced at his phone. “His schedule says set A2.”

“There's been a last-minute change, the director and Mr. Lee Hongbin are already there waiting,” the woman replied, ushering them back in the opposite direction.

_“Fantastic.”_

Jaehwan stole a sip of Hakyeon's coffee, focusing on his feet. _Not_ thinking about the conversation he’d just had with Sanghyuk, _not_ thinking about Hongbin’s manager skulking around like an overgrown house cat, _not_ thinking about anything. Simply trying to put himself in the headspace of a young James Parker. Trying to fend off the swiftly descending surety that this was another trap.

The makeup artists fluttered around him as he and Hakyeon reached set B6.

And, of course, set B6 _wasn’t_ the cafe where James and Daniel first met. Nor was it the interior of James’ home where the majority of the other romantic scenes were supposed to take place. It was Daniels office. His real office, not his doctor’s office.

It was the office where Daniel was going to die.

“I really-“ Jaehwan murmured, feeling a bit of his very old and deeply suppressed anxiety trying to ignite in his stomach. Hoping Hakyeon could hear him. “I really _can’t_ do this now.”

Hakyeon wasn’t looking, focusing on his phone and replying around his coffee. “Yes, you can. You’re a professional. This is what you do.”

“No. I mean I cannot do- another improvisation. Not with _this_ scene. Not today. Not right now I need a bit of time.”

Jaehwan widened his eyes, mortified at the realization that he could feel tears beginning to sting.

“Don’t cry, Mr. Lee, you’ll ruin the makeup,” someone said, and then there was a fan being waved in his face. As if that would relax him. As if it wasn’t just another thing to overwhelm him.

“Hwannie, relax.”

“Mr. Lee, you need to take off that waistcoat, the director wants you in just shirt and suspenders for this take.”

Jaehwan really _was_ trying, as he was poked and prodded and brushed and adjusted, not to cry. This was not a normal emotion for him. He was almost always a light and happy person, one that would bring joy to the people around him. And if he ever did begin to feel this way (let’s call a spade a spade and give it a name, anxious), Jaehwan would simply not think. Just shut himself off and not think about anything at all. The physical embodiment of the phrase _‘no thoughts, head empty’._

But moments like now, he couldn’t scrub his brain clean fast enough. He felt like he wanted to vomit but couldn’t. The jaws theme music had begun playing softly in the back of his mind, a sign of an approaching danger that he couldn't yet see. Quiet but impossible to ignore.

“Leading Lee’s, places!” Sanghyuk called from somewhere Jaehwan couldn’t see. The lights on the set began to dim, signaling the beginning of a shoot, but Jaehwan didn’t know where his place was. They hadn’t gone over blocking yet. This scene wasn’t supposed to be shot until next month.

“This scene isn’t supposed to be shot until next month,” Jaehwan tried, voicing the single rational thought he was currently capable of forming. He sounded dead even to his own ears.

“I know, but I guess there’s been a schedule change. Do you want me to talk to Wonshik?”

Hakyeon was there, or nearby anyway, his voice was closer than Jaehwan expected it to be. All Jaehwan could manage in response was, “I don’t know where to stand.”

“What’s the delay?” a deep voice asked. Jaehwan mechanically turned his head to look, finding Wonshik standing maybe five feet away. One hand in his pocket, the other frozen midway through carding his hair. It vaguely registered that he’d changed clothes. The suit from yesterday (last night) had been replaced with navy slacks and a plain white dress shirt, cuffs rolled halfway up his forearms and the top two buttons undone.

An image of what the director’s chest looked like under that shirt flashed blinding bright in Jaehwan’s head and he flinched.

“You’ve changed the schedule without giving us any notice. We aren’t exactly _prepared,”_ Hakyeon was saying, as though he and Jaehwan were going to be acting together.

Wonshik dragged his eyes from Jaehwan momentarily to flash Hakyeon a distracted smile. “Jaehwan agreed to more free time. We discussed it a few weeks ago.”

As if _that_ was an excuse. As if improvising a few lines and doing an entire scene completely unprepared were the same thing. Jaehwan was frantically trying to parse through what lines he remembered. There weren’t many.

He knew the general energy of the scene, but he wasn’t- _god_ he was going to fuck this up. He was going to fuck it up so bad that everyone would laugh at him. Jaehwan could already hear it, the laughter, not the laughter he enjoyed being aimed at him, but cruel and cold laughter, taunting laughter. _Not good enough, not good enough, not good enough,_ Jaehwan wasn’t good enough. He must not be. If this sort of last second switch was being accepted by everyone around him and he was the _only_ one thrown off... what did that say about him? Unprepared. Unprofessional. Unremarkable.

“Ah, just a moment.” Wonshik’s voice shot through Jaehwan’s silent panicky rambling like a lightning bolt. He realized he’d been staring at the director but had no mental capacity left to make himself stop.

Wonshik stepped forward and snagged one of those remover wipes from the makeup artists wheeled supply cart. There was no greeting. No exchange of pleasantries, no cheek kisses, not even an _‘I bet you're pretty sore from last night huh wink wink’._ Wonshik simply cupped the back of Jaehwan’s head with one hand and smoothed the wipe down Jaehwan’s neck with the other.

It occurred to Jaehwan, if only as an echo, that he should probably say something about how he didn’t ever use those wipes. That whatever was in them made his skin tight and a bit irritated and itchy. That if Wonshik wanted to take his makeup off, he should use an oil cleanser and then follow up with a water cleanser so Jaehwan wouldn’t break out in a rash.

But skincare wasn’t really the main issue at that moment. The makeup artist had chided Jaehwan earlier in the morning when he arrived, telling him that if he wanted his boyfriend to give him hickeys, make sure they were somewhere that could be hidden by his clothing. She had layered color corrector and concealer over the marks on his neck, then foundation, and finally powder, so they wouldn’t be seen on camera. And for some unfathomable reason, Wonshik had just wiped all her hard work away.

“You’re _not_ serious,” Hakyeon said, voice sharp where he was standing a few paces away.

“As a heart attack,” Wonshik replied, folding the wipe in half and starting again.

If Jaehwan looked, he bet his managers arms were crossed and hip jutting out, but Jaehwan couldn’t look. Wonshik’s fingers burned against his scalp and nape, Wonshik’s face was almost close enough for Jaehwan to feel the heat of his breath, Wonshik’s lovely, sleepy eyes were looking down at him. At his neck, but if Jaehwan wanted to, he could let himself believe the director was looking at his lips. Just like how he’d done last night during the movie when he thought Jaehwan wasn’t paying attention.

“There. The more realistic, the better,” Wonshik murmured, his deep voice nothing more than a rumble. It sent minuscule solar flares dancing up Jaehwan’s spine without his permission.

“What- you mean you want to film my hickeys? _Why?”_ Jaehwan managed. Barely. He still sounded dead, but it was a croaky sort of dead now.

Wonshik released him, the sudden lack of his hands on Jaehwan’s skin leaving Jaehwan dizzy and off kilter, tossing the makeup wipe into a nearby trash bin. “We’re about to start. I’m sure you remember the notes, Daniel and James are in the middle of messing around when Daniels criminal buddies show up and blow his cover. I already did the work for those-“ a disinterested wave at Jaehwan’s neck, “-thought it’d save Hongbin some trouble.”

Those.

_Those._

Like they were nothing, meant nothing. Like Wonshik had marked Jaehwan up specifically for this scene and nothing else.

Jaehwan gave a convulsive shake of his head, fingers curling around his own throat to try and cover them up. “That’s- that’s too _private._ It’s too much, you’re asking too much of me.”

Wonshik shot him an exasperated look. “Seriously, Jaehwan, they’re just some little bruises. I’ve seen you on the news with worse.”

“But- that’s different. None of its-“

_Real,_ was what Jaehwan had been about to say. None of what the gossip sites posted about him was real. It was a carefully crafted facade that he’d worked on for years. Constructing the picture of a public life so outlandish and entertaining that nobody would think to intrude on what went on behind the curtain. Wasn’t that how most celebrities lived?

Sure, he’d purposefully gotten his picture taken when a _‘hickey’_ or two were visible, but they had been painted on by one of his stylist friends from his rookie theater days. Always timed strategically close to his upcoming release dates. And yes, he frequently took part in staged faux relationship announcements, usually followed by dramatic and eye-catching faux breakups. But that was just to keep his name out there.

All his friends new that. They all employed similar tactics in their own personal lives and so knew to completely disregard the tabloids. His family knew it too. They weren’t exactly _happy_ about it, but they did _tolerate_ it. And they were always happy to meet people who were really important in Jaehwan’s life. Like Hakyeon and Hongbin and, once upon a time, _he who shall remain nameless._

Fuck, did Wonshik actually believe all the garbage rumors about him?! Did he think Jaehwan and Hongbin had _actually_ been involved?!

This must be some sort of revenge play. Pushing Jaehwan out of his comfort zone to a degree that could only be described as cruel. All because some dumbshit paparazzi had snuck into the private garage in Jaehwan’s building and taken a few pictures. Jaehwan hadn’t pegged the director as the vindictive type, but apparently he was wrong.

“Jesus Christ, I called places like an hour ago! We have a schedule!” Sanghyuk called, appearing beside Wonshik out of nowhere and making Jaehwan flinch.

“What schedule would that be?” Hakyeon snapped, “Because clearly, I don’t have it.”

“Just get Jaehwan on set. Hongbin is already waiting.”

Jaehwan was ushered away, only half aware that Hakyeon was whispering words of comfort in his ear as they moved to the set.

And then he was there. Standing alone in the middle of a fake office with navy blue lights illuminating the fake windows from the outside to make it look like nighttime. Jaehwan felt like a bird whose cage someone had just dropped a cloth over so he’d fall asleep. He had no clue where to go, no clue where to stand or what direction to look in, his heart felt on the verge of exploding.

“Hongbin, ready?”

“Ready,” Hongbin’s voice replied, now standing at Jaehwan’s side in full bad-guy dress.

Black shirt. Black waistcoat. Black slacks. Shiny black shoes. A white bow tie hanging unknotted around his neck and collar popped. That honey blonde hair slicked back. His costar was _unfairly_ handsome. It almost helped Jaehwan calm down a bit, actually. Hongbin being handsome was a predictable constant, and consistency was what he needed in that moment.

“Good job with those,” Hongbin whispered, poking Jaehwan in the neck. “Keep him occupied so I can finally spend some quality time with Sanghyuk.”

“Yeah you do that. Hopefully a good fuck will improve the brat’s temperament,” Jaehwan muttered. He had to force the snarkiness but Jaehwan didn’t want to be too quiet and alarm his costar.

“Jaehwan, ready?”

“No!”

A pause. And then Jaehwan was ignored, stage lights dimmed, and Wonshik called, “Action.”

Jaehwan _wasn’t_ ready. He wasn’t in his James Parker headspace at all. There was no room for it. Just jaws theme music slowly getting louder, an awareness of camera lenses focusing in on him like the many eyes of a giant spider. Oh yeah, and Hongbin’s mouth gently latching onto the side of Jaehwan’s neck as he bent Jaehwan backward against the edge of a desk.

That feeling, the light pressure startled a breathy moan out of Jaehwan, and he swallowed, resting his hands on Hongbin’s shoulders. Unsure of how to respond. Unsure if he should be saying something or just acquiescing.

“Hongbin- I...”

_“Cut!”_

Jaehwan flushed realizing he’d called Hongbin by his real name instead of his character. _How fucking embarrassing._

Instead of the amusement Jaehwan had been expecting from him, Hongbin looked up with concern. And no wonder. It’s not like Jaehwan usually fucked up on set.

“You okay?”

“No.”

“Reset and go again,” Wonshik called, hidden behind his monitors when Jaehwan tried to catch a glimpse of him. “Action.”

Hongbin lowered his head again, Jaehwan accidentally squirming that time. He shut his eyes and tried to force himself to relax. A vivid flash of white pages bloomed behind his eyelids, words in raised Calibri typeface. _Lines._ Just a few but it was enough to give him a mild sense of the direction this was going.

“Daniel,” Jaehwan said, thinking back to the first read through, trying to make his voice sound hesitant but firm at the same time, “Daniel, I came to speak to you, not for this- _huh...”_

The line had been interrupted, Hongbin lifting Jaehwan up by the thighs with absolutely no warning and sitting him on the desktop. “This is what we do best sweetheart,” he murmured into Jaehwan’s skin, “This is what you always come to me for.”

Jaehwan braced himself with a hand on the desk and made a halfhearted attempt to push his costar off. James Parker headspace was trickling back, slower than he would have liked, but it was coming nonetheless. However, that had the unpleasant side effect of melding together with his anxiety. So, he was pulling off James Parker, but an incredibly anxious James Parker.

Wonshik would probably like that. _The fucking sadist._

“You owe me an explanation for all this. I want- _need_ an explanation before I have you arrested for murder. I’ve already spoken to the police, they’re on the way.”

Improvised, but still in the general realm of accuracy. Jaehwan bit his lip.

“An explanation of what, sweetheart? You’re being hysterical.”

Jaehwan reached for Hongbin’s shoulders again and shoved. _Hard._ James would be frustrated now, by that word. Hysterical. Like he was being overdramatic, like the facts he’d seen with his own eyes counted for nothing. Like Daniel thought he was stupid enough to fall for the manipulation any longer.

“I am _not_ being hysterical,” Jaehwan replied, watching Hongbin watch him. Head tilted, like a handsome and curious puppy. “I want to know why you killed those people. What went so _wrong_ inside your mind that you felt it was correct behavior?”

“Are you going to write about me?” Hongbin asked, because of course James would write about it. Firstly, because writing about stuff was how James Parker coped with anything and everything. And secondly, because the plot of a best seller had basically just been handed to him on a silver platter. Jaehwan had to give Hongbin credit, he knew their character bios inside and out.

Jaehwan pretended to deliberate, and then replied, “No,” in a manner that he hope would convey a lie.

“Yes, you _will.”_ Hongbin walked toward him again, steps torturously slow, and the sight of his villainous costar on the prowl accidentally turned up the jaws theme music playing on loop in Jaehwan’s head. His pulse raced faster, the feeling that he was in real danger completely inescapable. “I’m your _everything,_ sweetheart. What else would you write about?”

A reasonable question to expect from a narcissist and a psychopath. If the screenwriter for this stupid movie hadn’t wished to remain anonymous, Jaehwan would congratulate them on creating such in-depth characters. And then ask what possessed them to give Wonshik a free pass to fuck it up so thoroughly. Maybe that’s why they were staying anonymous. No association with the mess.

“I don’t know,” Jaehwan mumbled, racking his brain for something to say, “I could-“

A door on the left side of the set burst open, a door that Jaehwan hadn’t known would be opening, and he flinched so hard he actually fell off the desk. Jump scares weren’t his friend right then.

“It’s all taken care of boss, exactly as you instructed,” one of the large henchmen looking guys who burst in said, an extra that Jaehwan hadn’t met yet. Another unhelpful thing.

“What’s been taken care of,” Jaehwan forced out. He was on the floor, still, with no strength in his jelly legs to stand. He looked to Hongbin, because instinct told him he should, and then looked at the cameras, trying to find Wonshik, hoping for a cut.

No cut came.

Cameras kept on rolling.

Nobody was answering him, maybe Hongbin had forgotten his line too, so Jaehwan repeated, “Daniel, _what’s_ been taken care of?!”

The henchmen extras, following some sort of blocking that Jaehwan hadn’t been told about, pulled out what his nerd brain unconsciously catalogued as tommy guns.

“Who’s that?!” exclaimed one.

“How’d he get in here,” growled another.

As Hongbin was shouting at them to “Get out, all of you, get out this instant,” Jaehwan noticed the prop gun that had been concealed behind the desk. Most likely for him to use in this very situation. Jaehwan grabbed it and managed to sit up a little so he was kneeling with the pistol raised once the door closed and Hongbin turned around.

Even without any stage instruction whatsoever, Jaehwan knew what he should be doing. He and Hongbin had run through this in private, just the two of them, for fun. To see how they would play it if they were free to do as they liked. Granted, this wasn’t exactly the same set up, but it was close enough, and the lines were coming to mind a bit easier even through the anxious terror he was trying so hard to tamp down.

“You _really_ did it,” Jaehwan breathed, hearing how shallow his breathing was but unable to stop. “Some part of me wanted so _desperately_ to believe it wasn’t true...”

Hongbin took a step in his direction, hands up, a playful smile on his face. “What do you want me to say sweetheart? You’re so stubborn, what do you think I could tell you that would change your mind?”

Jaehwan drew a blank. No ideas. So, he fell back on the old drama standby. “Tell me you love me.”

“Oh, _sweetheart...”_

Another step forward. Hongbin’s hand going behind his back. The cameras were probably picking up on the gun he had tucked into his waistband that he was now slowly pulling out. James Parker didn’t know that’s what he was doing but Jaehwan did. And Jaehwan was ready (neither mentally nor physically nor spiritually ready in any way, but he couldn’t do anything about it and so tried to convince himself otherwise).

He was ready when Hongbin murmured the softest, gentlest, “I love you,” Jaehwan had ever heard his friend utter.

Jaehwan bit his lip.

_“Liar,”_ he said, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.

The gun was a prop. It was plastic and paint, nonfunctional and definitely not loaded. It felt like a toy in his hand.

_However._ There was a considerably loud bang and something inside the gun gave a very powerful judder, almost as though it were trying to replicate the kickback one experienced after firing a real gun. Jaehwan hadn’t been ready for either of those things, considering that nowadays sound effects were usually added in post.

And when he opened his eyes, he _really_ wasn’t ready for the sight of one of his best friends lying on the ground with red splattered across his chest and a hole in his dress shirt. Those lovely brown eyes so glazed over it looked like they’d been painted on.

All of these factors, the shot, the crimson, the bang, his already frayed nerves, culminated with Jaehwan finally losing his composure completely.

Logically- a tiny part of his brain was still managing to function logically somehow- Jaehwan knew it was a squib. That Hongbin had been wearing a vest under his shirt that would create the tiny tear meant to look like a bullet hole. And that it was fake blood. Because this wasn’t a dress rehearsal it was the real fucking shot and _of course_ Hongbin would have been prepared to act dead.

Jaehwan had lost the capacity to register logic. He couldn't speak. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even move.

All he could do while he knelt there, screaming and crying and sobbing into his hands was think _‘oh my god I’ve just shot him, oh my god I’ve just shot him, oh my god I’ve just shot him, and why is nobody calling cut, can’t they see he’s dying?! Of course they aren’t calling cut, Jaehwan. Why would they call cut? Did you think this was a movie? Did you think this was pretend? You stupid useless little boy, you can’t keep reality straight and now you’ve gone and killed your friend. What have you done, Hongbin is dead and it’s your fault and why is nobody helping?!’_

It felt like he’d been in a plane, tail spinning uncontrollably out of the sky, and the plane had just crashed into the ground. Nose first. Dead on impact.

There was a sound of scuffling, somewhere to his left maybe. Or right. Jaehwan could barely hear anything with the blood rushing in his ears.

He crumpled, body just giving out and collapsing into a heap. Sobbing into the navy-blue carpet of set B6.

_“Cut.”_

It finally came, a second or a century later, Jaehwan couldn’t gauge how much time had passed.

The lights came up, sound exploded around him, and then there were hands _everywhere._

Hongbin prying him off the floor, cupping Jaehwan’s face in his hands and saying something that looked vaguely like “Calm down, Hwannie, it’s okay, everything’s alright.”

Someone else rubbing his back.

A third person plucking at his hair, as though his _appearance_ mattered at all right then.

And then a fourth person. Familiar hands, pianist’s hands, long graceful fingers curling under his arms and helping him to his feet. An arm around his waist to support him when Jaehwan found he couldn’t actually walk all that well, still wobbly and blinded by tears.

In the background, Jaehwan could make out Hakyeon shouting now. See him too if he really tried. His manager was standing directly in front of Wonshik’s director chair, using his most scary voice and fists on hips.

“You’re _sick_ if you think we’re going to let you put that in this god damn movie! He just had a panic attack on your set, and you did _nothing!_ Just let the cameras keep going! Like he isn’t a fucking human being with feelings and emotions! You’re treating him like an object, and it will _not_ be tolerated anymore! That was blatant abuse and misconduct, not to mention endangering the mental health of my client...”

The shouting continued, Hakyeon building up a head of steam as only Hakyeon could, but Jaehwan tuned it out. Fighting to get his breathing under some semblance of control. Both Wonshik and Sanghyuk were gaping at Jaehwan as he stumbled past, but Jaehwan couldn’t meet their gazes. Too full of shame and regret and baseline fear.

And then, merciful silence descended around him like a blanket. The green room door shutting behind him. That uncomfortable leather sofa had never looked more inviting.

Jaehwan allowed himself to be sat down on it. Tears still slipping down his cheeks as he stared at nothing. Sitting motionless until he was told to raise his arms.

He raised his arms.

The familiar fleecy cotton of his _favorite_ hoodie encased him in warmth. The dark red one, oversized, with the sleeves that dangled all the way down to his knees. It was gently pulled down over his head and his arms were fed through those ridiculous sleeves. The hood stayed up, blocking out some extraneous stimuli and helping Jaehwan to process his surroundings with a bit more ease.

Soft footsteps walking away and then returning, an open bottle of water being held out to him. Jaehwan took it and gulped down a mouthful. Letting the person who’d brought him here dab gently at his face with a tissue.

“I’m sorry, Jaehwan-ah. That was cruel, what they put you through just now.”

“It’s not like you haven’t put me through worse,” Jaehwan hiccupped, staring blankly at the ground. He took another sip of water.

A hand rubbing his back again, wide smooth circles that helped ground him no matter how much he wished they didn’t.

It flashed into his head with sudden urgency, the need for this person to _go away._

“Stop, please. Go away.”

Best he could manage, but it seemed to have been enough. The hand stopping its comforting circles. The hands owner getting up and going to stand on the other side of the room. Not going away entirely, but going away enough.

“Did you sleep with the director?”

“Not on purpose,” Jaehwan grit out, accidentally spilling a little water down the front of his sweatshirt. “Not that it’s _any_ concern of yours.”

A soft laugh. “I was just curious. Not sure if he’s going to want a repeat once Hakyeon’s finished filleting him alive.”

The room around Jaehwan stayed silent for maybe thirty more seconds, giving him a chance to calm his heartbeat a little. Practice the breathing exercises that had been taught to him by a therapist he’d seen a few years ago.

But then the door was opening and Hongbin was coming in, swiftly followed by Sanghyuk. And a moment later by an apoplectic looking Hakyeon with Wonshik close on his heels.

Hongbin had come to sit next to Jaehwan on the couch, now missing his faux-blood stained costume and only in an undershirt and his slacks. He gave Jaehwan’s hand a reassuring little squeeze and Jaehwan squeezed back.

“You don’t get it,” Wonshik was saying continuing the shouting match that Jaehwan hadn’t heard the middle of. “He-“ a finger pointed in Jaehwan’s direction, “Hides behind his character all the time. Literally every day, actually, if what you said about his scandals is true. In all the time he’s been on camera for me, the only other time I’ve seen him be himself was that free time during the love scene. That’s it. Hiding yourself behind a character’s mask isn’t acting. Acting, _real_ acting, is giving the character a part of who you are. Letting yourself shine through. And the only way to get him to do that is by shaking him up a little!”

_“Shaking him up?!”_ Hakyeon scoffed, “That wasn’t _shaking him up!_ You deliberately set him up to fail so you could see what would happen! I don’t give a damn about your creative vision, Mr. Kim. If you don’t agree to reshoot that scene properly, with actual blocking and a solid amount of prep time, we’re finished.”

“Does security need to come and escort you off the property, Mr. Cha? Or are you going to calm down?” Sanghyuk asked, very unwisely in Jaehwan’s opinion.

But rather than Hakyeon responding, it was Hongbin.

“If they escort him off, you might as well escort us off the property as well,” he said, that silky baritone sharp with anger. “I thought you and Jaehwan had a solo meeting like you and I did. I had no idea you just threw him in blind like that, and I wouldn’t have agreed to go through with it if I _had_ known. If that’s how you treat your actors, Wonshik, Jaehwan and I are done. We both have other offers on the table. We don’t need to stay here and be mistreated.”

What had Jaehwan ever done to deserve a friend as good as Hongbin? _Nothing,_ as far as he knew, but there Hongbin was. Brave and strong and kind and fiercely loving. Heart of a lion, that one. Jaehwan squeezed his hand a second time and let his eyes fall shut.

“You can’t leave. Jaehwan _can’t_ leave, this film is for him. It’s almost been tailored exactly for him. And Hongbin, we need you too. Nobody has onscreen chemistry with him like you do, and nobody I’ve seen can pull off that precise mixture of elegance and villainy. You both need to stay and finish it.”

“That’s up to Jaehwan then. I’ll stay if he stays, but if he goes, you’d better start looking for two new leads.”

Footsteps. Moving in his direction. Wonshik, if Jaehwan had to guess.

“Fine, just let me talk to Jaehwan alone for a minute and we can sort this out.”

Hakyeon laughed. Loudly. “Not a chance in _hell!_ You don’t get to talk yourself out of this one. If you want to say something, say it in front of all of us.”

Jaehwan cracked one eye open. Wonshik was standing a few paces away, Sanghyuk hovering over his shoulder, Hakyeon in front of him so he was strategically positioned between Jaehwan and the director. _He who shall remain nameless_ was leaning up against one of the vanity tables, watching the scene unfold through slightly narrowed eyes.

Wonshik signed. “Fine. Go home for today, and let me do a rough edit of the footage. I’ll do it personally so you can see what I was going for. Watch it, and then decide whether you want to stay on or not. I never said this was going to be an easy film to make, but it is going to be a _real_ one.”

Everyone looked to Jaehwan, giving him the final word. All he could muster was a tired sounding “Fine.”

“Send us the edit by midnight and then wait for our call. Taekwoon and I will be in touch,” Hakyeon snapped, giving Wonshik a last disapproving glare before rounding on the actors. “Come on, boys, get your things.”

“I swear he still thinks he’s our parent,” Hongbin muttered, snatching up his own jacket and pulling it on.

“Don’t _sass_ me, Lee Hongbin.”

Hongbin just rolled his eyes and slung his backpack over one shoulder, then passing Jaehwan his bag as well.

On their way out of the green room, Jaehwan thought he felt a hand brush the side of his cheek, but Hakyeon yanked him away too fast for Jaehwan to be sure.

“Drive safe, Taekwoonie. Make sure Hongbin gets some rest and call me tonight once you see the edit, Hakyeon called, _he who shall remain nameless_ flashing a thumbs up as he and Hongbin got into their own stereotypical manager van.

~✰✰✰~

**From: Smart Director Hottie**

**Received 11:48 pm**

_‘I sent Hakyeon the quick edit, just keep in mind that its very rough and I’m not actually a professional film editor. I think you’ll understand why it’s so incredible anyway. Let me know what you think.'_

**From: Smart Director Hottie**

**Received 11:52 pm**

_‘I don’t like seeing you cry. I’m sorry.’_

**You:**

_*Typing…*_

**You:**

_*Read at 11:53 pm*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were curious about what scene Jaehwan was talking about (the bit about how he got into acting and playing Richard II) it was [THIS](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AXGkbBbXVSA)  
> it's only like three and a half minutes but there's so *much* in those three minutes lol, hands down one of my favorite bits of Shakespeare.

**Author's Note:**

> COMMENTS AND KUDOS ARE LOVED <3
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nestras_rvng)  
> [Tumblr](https://clytemnestrasrevenge95.tumblr.com%E2%80%9Drel=)  
> [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/nestras_rvng)


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